Dalish Tattoos
by alyssacousland
Summary: Awakening Anders and Lyna Mahariel pairing. AU for the most part!
1. The WardenCommander

_**Hello everybody! I took a break from the fic I'm writing (Dragon Age 2 Revisited) because I had this idea in my head while playing Awakening. So, I decided to write a three-chapter, one-shot fic of Awakening Anders and Lyna Mahariel. **_

_**My disclaimer, as usual: I own nothing; Bioware owns all the characters, unfortunately! :P **_

Dalish Tattoos

Chapter 1 - The Warden-Commander

_"Have I ever told you that I find tattoos on women incredibly attractive?" _

Anders was flirting with Velanna again, but kept his eyes fixed on the Warden-Commander. Small and petite, her lovely body enticed him. Her profile was barely visible to him from where he was standing and he could see the tip of her delicately pointed ears.

He smiled when she turned to face them all. His eyes glanced briefly at the tattoo on her forehead, then were drawn to her silvery-blue eyes. From there, they kept going down, taking in her lovely turned-up nose first, then her full rosy lips. His imagination was working full blast, and he felt aroused when he imagined himself devouring her lips.

"Anders?" Her musical voice brought him back to the present with a start. She was staring at him, obviously waiting for an answer.

An answer to a question he hadn't heard, as his mind had been too busy with other...more interesting thoughts. Simply put, he hadn't the foggiest idea what she had asked him.

He gave her his best charming smile. "Warden-Commander?"

A soft sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head.

"Never mind. I'm done explaining things to you twice or even three times," she shrugged. "I trust at least Oghren will be able to fill you in on the details."

At that moment, there was a crash behind them all. Anders saw the Warden-Commander close her eyes painfully for she knew what had happened without even looking: Oghren had fainted in a drunken stupor.

Her pretty face flushed, and Anders felt his arousal throb. Nothing like an angry woman...

"I can't believe this!" She exclaimed, interrupting his thoughts yet again. "How am I ever going to get things done around here?"

She whirled around to face Anders, her eyes flashing angrily.

"You! Cast a rejuvenating spell on him! Get lyrium potions! We're leaving!"

Anders quickly did as he was told, holding his tongue. Best not to annoy her any further, or his resolve might break down completely, and he would end up kissing her in front of everyone.

"To the Blackmarsh, then?" He asked meekly, stuffing lyrium potions in his pack, taking care not to hit Ser Pounce-a-lot, who meowed softly at him.

Lyna Mahariel rolled her eyes and did not reply, but turned to march towards the Vigil's outer gates.

"I'm guessing that's a yes," he muttered, as he followed her.

...

They stopped to set camp before it got dark. The Blackmarsh was about a day and a half away from Vigil's Keep, so they had packed tents and bedrolls as well as other provisions. Oghren and Nathaniel collected wood for the fire, while Velanna set her tent up quietly farther away from the rest. Sigrun busied herself cleaning her weapons. And Anders...

Well, Anders walked over to where Lyna Mahariel was standing.

He was careful to make a lot of noise. Even though she _looked_ petite and delicate, Anders knew this was far from the truth. She was a skilled fighter - for a rogue. If she did not kill a man using her sword and dagger, the poison coating her blades certainly would.

"Warden-Commander," he called out when he was standing behind her.

"Yes, Anders? What can I do for you?" She turned to face him, dazzling him with a smile.

"I - so - heh!" He said rather eloquently. Anders scowled inwardly at himself. It wasn't like him to be lost for words. Especially when it came to women. He made another attempt. Mahariel had bit back a giggle and was wearing a business-like face. "So, what would you do if you weren't a Grey Warden?"

"I wouldn't be on my way to some creepy marsh, that's for sure," she deadpanned. Then, more seriously, "I think I would be traveling all over Thedas, to be honest."

"Ha! A girl after freedom, I take it?" Anders drawled, having recuperated from his previous embarrassing tongue twist.

"We Dalish roam the world. It is in my blood," She said rather proudly. Anders automatically smiled. He knew she took great pride in her roots. "What about you? I take it you're tired of running around, escaping the Templars? You've settled in quite nicely."

"I would escape if there were Templars around, coming to arrest me, yes. But it's not like I can't stay in a place, given the right reason to stay, of course," he shot back, his eyes twinkling.

She blushed then, something that he had not seen her do as of yet and considered this odd. While he knew from the sparse conversations they had shared that she was not against being with human men, he marveled at her reaction, for the last man she had loved had broken her heart and was now married and living at the palace in Denerim.

He didn't like the sad look that had come into her eyes. When he opened his mouth to speak, what he said surprised him so much, he thought that it was someone else who had spoken at first.

"He was a fool to break up with you, if you ask me..."

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, unable to believe what she had just heard.

_Maker's breath, man, get a grip on yourself. She's a pretty woman, nothing else! _

But even as he thought these words, Anders knew in his heart that there was much more to Lyna than a pretty face and body. So much more...

"Commander, dinner is ready," Sigrun called out from the fire.

Lyna Mahariel turned to Sigrun, relief written all over her delicate face. She moved away quickly, much like a deer running from a predator. Anders groaned inwardly.

_Nice. Why don't you just cast a death hex over yourself and be done with it? _

...

Once the Blackmarsh issue had been solved, which had involved running around a dead town killing off undead, werewolves and other interesting creatures - a high dragon amongst them, Anders found himself walking back to the keep beside an undead warden and stealing glances at him from time to time. He was surprised when the undead warden spoke to him, making him stumble on a rock along the road.

"You escaped the tower where all mages are held as prisoners, yes?" The deep voice said.

"Observant, are you?" Anders shot back. He puffed out his chest proudly. "Seven times as a matter of fact."

"It is right for you to fight for freedom. It is wrong for others to be enslaved," Justice declared solemnly.

"Says a spirit who has possessed a dead body, making it come back to life," Anders muttered.

"I am not a demon, seeking to possess the dead in order to experience your world. I did not ask for this," Justice said sternly.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Anders muttered.

"I do not sleep. I have seen you and the others do that. I do not eat either," Justice said, clearly implying he was above the mundane nature of man.

"Is there a point to this conversation?" Anders sighed, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"You should seek a worthy cause. Liberating others such as yourself would be a good start," Justice said, his voice now louder.

"Yes. While I'm at it, maybe I should take a knife and slit my throat?" Anders quipped.

"Apathy is a weakness," Justice observed.

"So is death. Just saying..."

Anders heard a laugh coming from Mahariel and smiled to himself. Moments later the keep came to view. He hurried up the slope to catch up with the others, leaving the undead warden behind with a sense of relief.

"Meow," called Ser Pounce-a-lot from his pack.

"Don't you worry, Pounce," he cooed at the cat. "We're finally home."

...

Dinner was an interesting affair, ever since he had become a warden. It entailed a race amongst the others to see who could get the food first, and eat the most.

He loved dinner.

Oghren eyed the last piece of chicken and flung himself at it, his fork raised, aiming to spear it. Anders hesitated, poised over the chicken, waiting for the inevitable. Oghren missed his aim, striking the table beside the ceramic plate and Anders smiled as he leaned forward to claim his prize.

"Damn you, Sparkle-fingers. Magic shouldn't be allowed at the table!" Oghren growled, tugging at his fork.

"I didn't use magic, you dirty dwarf," Anders said, his voice laden with mock offense at his words. He kept his eyes on the chicken leg as he gobbled it up.

"Ha! A likely story. I bet you're in allegiance with them pant legs," Oghren mumbled, taking a swig from his infamous stash. He burped, then promptly passed out on the table.

After a while, the Warden-Commander stood up, and the rest followed suit. Anders watched her leave and nearly tripped over his feet in an effort to catch up with her.

But he was too late for Sigrun had started a conversation with her, and he watched as they walked down the corridors to the barracks of the keep. For now, all of them each had personal rooms, for there weren't enough wardens to fill the extra beds or rooms. He knew that this would not last because one of the things Mahariel was intent on was recruiting more wardens.

She didn't sleep at the barracks, that much was true. Anders knew she had a huge bedroom, all to herself. The perks of being Warden-Commander and all that. Ser Pounce-a-lot meowed and he cooed at the kitty again, then made his way to the larder.

He flirted with the cook for a saucer of milk and pieces of fish then headed to his own room. Sigrun and Mahariel were nowhere to be seen, but he could hear their voices, floating down the corridor coming from the direction of Sigrun's room.

Once inside his room, he set the saucer carefully down on the floor, and opened his pack, putting the bits of fish next to the bowl. The cat lapped up the milk and then attacked the fish. Anders smiled then went to the washbasin where he washed his hands and face. He frowned slightly suddenly wishing for more water to fill the empty tub. Sighing, he left his room to find one of the servants in the keep - and ran into Mahariel, who smiled up at him.

"Anders!" Her voice was music to his ears. He grinned back at her. "What are you doing wandering the corridors?"

"Oh. I'm looking for a servant for some water, as a matter of fact," Anders replied with a crooked smile. "I wanted to take a nice hot bath."

"You're in luck. There is one preparing a bath for me at this very moment," she said, one of her hands waving at him to follow her.

He grinned, falling into step beside her.

"What was it like, during the Blight?" He asked, aiming for her to open up about her past relationship.

She flushed slightly, her lips parting open. They arrived at her door, and he paused, waiting for her reply.

But Mahariel opened the door and called the servant. Without knowing how, Anders soon found himself standing in the corridor, the dwarven servant curtesying before heading to the kitchen area to fetch more water for his bath. It had happened so fast, Anders's head was swimming. At least she had bidden him a quick goodnight before closing the door on his face.

Mournfully, he headed to his room, where Ser Pounce-a-lot purred and snaked around his legs.

"What do you think, Pounce? I don't think I have a chance. She'd more likely kiss an ogre than me..."

...

The weeks that followed were nothing short of a nightmare. They were alerted to a horde of darkspawn advancing upon the City of Amaranthine. The Commander had them saddle some horses and spurred the poor animals to a wild gallop until they reached the city walls. They fought and defended the people in the city many times over, until the battle was done.

A talking darkspawn appeared at the city gates, warning them that a horde was advancing upon Vigil's Keep. Mahariel then ordered them to gallop without pause to the keep, where another terrible battle was fought. Seneschal Varel died bravely defending the Keep. But Mahariel and her wardens all survived, as well as most of the soldiers and knights. The Keep endured and was saved. Order was restored and the Warden-Commander rallied them to march to the Dragonbone Wastes at once to defeat the Mother.

At Drake's Fall, they met the Architect. Mahariel killed him after listening to his explanation and desire to stop all future Blights. Then, she ordered them to advance upon the Mother.

That battle was the hardest all of them had ever fought. Anders found himself consuming more lyrium than he ever had in his life. Nathaniel ran out of fire arrows, while Sigrun and Mahariel maintained their distance, shooting arrows at the monster before them.

Lyna ordered Anders to cast a Blizzard spell on the Mother, when one of her arrows briefly stunned her. She lithely made a run for her, drawing Vigilance and her dagger on the creature. Deftly, she applied a quick maneuver that stunned her opponent. Then, she nimbly ran up her monstrous body, only to slash her throat with her sword, and bury her dagger into her open maw.

The grueling battle was done - the mother was dead. Lyna slumped to the ground, catching her breath. Anders applied a rejuvenating spell on her, then the four of them trudged wearily back to the keep.

He kept stealing glances at her, his heart thumping wildly in his chest when he did so. He did not understand how or when it had happened, but one thing was perfectly clear to him.

He had fallen in love with her.

...


	2. The Woman

Chapter 2 - The Woman

Lyna Mahariel sighed when she stepped into the throne room. It was that time again. The time to hear the nobles whine and complain. The time to try to soothe them. The time to convince them to follow a suggestion or two.

She hated this part of her duties.

From the other side of the throne room, her sharp eyes picked up movement. Anders was approaching and he had a smile on his face. She felt herself blush. She really liked him. More than she would dare admit.

"Time to tackle the nobles again, huh?" He said as soon as he came close. He was standing in front of her with a smirk on his face, one of his eyebrows lifting upwards. A tingling sensation washed over her and her stomach actually fluttered, as if hundreds of butterflies had suddenly been released.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I might as well get it over with."

Turning she stepped on the dais. Captain Garevel, now Seneschal of the Keep, bowed his head acknowledging her presence and waited for silence before he started speaking.

The room grew quiet after a few minutes.

"Lords and Ladies, welcome to the weekly hearing. The Warden-Commander, Arlessa of Amaranthine, will now listen to your petitions."

The morning droned on, incredibly dull and lifeless. Mechanically, Lyna helped those she could, and put off the things she considered of less importance. Once the petitions were all heard, she mingled with some of them, the part of the whole process she hated the most.

After a short while, she stepped towards Garevel, giving him a nod which was an indication for him to respectfully ask the nobles to leave.

When the nobles left, she let out an audible sigh of relief. She wanted nothing more than a huge lunch and a hot bath at that moment.

The doors to the Great Hall burst open and at least a half dozen soldiers dressed in silverite armor marched in. She recognized the royal crest on their shields and blanched.

She had not seen Alistair at all since she had first arrived at Amaranthine a year ago. As far as she was concerned, she preferred it that way. In fact, she never wanted to see him again for as long as she lived. This, however, was not to be the case, as he was making his way towards her at the moment, a smile on his face that would have turned her into a melting pile of goo. Except that this time it was different.

This time, she felt nothing but awkwardness as he finally reached the dais, climbed up the stairs and stood before her.

She did not kneel before him but narrowed her eyes, steeling herself for the conversation that was about to transpire. Seneschal Garevel and the guards had fallen to their knees. If anything, that made her feel taller.

"Ah, Warden-Commander. Such a delight to see you," Alistair said in his most charming voice.

Lyna was clenching and unclenching her fists mechanically. She forced a sweet smile on her face.

"Your Majesty. It is an honor to see you grace these halls," she said sweetly.

Alistair chuckled. Lyna had never been one to speak sweetly like a noble woman. "Indeed? I thought about coming myself to hand you a gift for the keep. When you see what it is, you'll surely agree," he said his warm amber eyes fixed on her silvery-blue ones. He turned to the guard closest to him and gave a nod. The guard handed her a box. Upon opening it, her eyes widened with surprise. Inside the box were hundreds upon hundreds of gold sovereigns along with various precious stones and jewelry. She closed the lid and handed the box to Garevel, smiling. That would help them with the repairs, getting more armor for her men and future wardens, provisions, and then some. It was more coin than she had ever seen before.

She forced herself to curtsy - something she was not familiar with, but accomplished it nevertheless.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. This is most helpful and sorely needed."

"May I have a word with you? In private?" Alistair asked.

She nodded curtly, and asked the Seneschal to step away. Anders remained in the room, but farther away, so she said nothing to him.

"What is it that you want, Your Majesty?" Lyna said.

"Alistair," he corrected, looking down at her, his amber gaze burning with a passionate intensity she knew all too well.

"Would your wife, the queen, know that you wish me to call you by your first name, Your Majesty?" Lyna shot back through clenched teeth. "I hear she is with child. Congratulations."

"Maker's breath, Lyna! You know why I did what I did. I needed an heir. And the King of Ferelden cannot marry an elf!" He blurted out before he knew what he was saying, his voice carrying over to where Anders stood.

She bristled visibly at his words and her eyes flashed angrily. "Then I suggest you return to your precious shemlen wife. You'd best not be seen in the company of an elf such as I."

"Lyna," Alistair croaked out miserably, realizing he had ruined anything he had ever hoped for.

"Warden-Commander Mahariel to you, Your Majesty. It's fortunate that I do not have any feelings for you any longer. You, however, would be wise to pursue this no longer. Your wife and future children need you more than I. Good day."

And she stormed out of the room without looking back.

...

Anders found her in one of the towers, high above the ground. She was surveying everything angrily and must have seen the king and his guards when they left. The air practically sizzled around her, and he wondered if it was wise at all to approach her and talk.

"Fantastic view, isn't it?" He called out in a happy voice. Her shoulders drooped visibly, so he walked right up to her, inches away from her delicate, small frame.

She said nothing, so he ransacked his brains for a good conversation topic.

"It looks like rain."

_That's just so brilliant, I may have to write it on a piece of parchment and frame it - then hang it over the door of my room. _

She gave him a tiny smile. He felt amazed that his stupid line had somehow worked.

After a while, her soft voice broke the silence between them.

"I don't feel anything for him anymore. It's a wonder..."

"I'm sorry he hurt you so much," Anders sighed. "I could burn him with a fireball, though he _is_ the king."

She chuckled and lifted her face. His eyes fell first on her tattoo, his hands itching to touch it gently. His fingers then would travel down to her cheek and -

"It's not advisable for you to attack him. He did allow your conscription after all," she said, her eyes sparkling.

Anders felt his heart melting at the sound of her voice, his whole body tingling with lust. He fought to control himself and smiled at her.

"I agree wholeheartedly with you, Warden-Commander. I like my head where it is right now."

"My name is Lyna," she replied, rather shyly, lowering her eyes for a few seconds then lifting them up to meet his again.

His heart did a double somersault. Fire coursed through his veins and he felt mildly intoxicated all of the sudden. Giddy with happiness, he said the first stupid thing that came into his head.

"Lyna is so exotic. Are all elves exotic?"

She burst out laughing at this, and he grinned at her. He longed to take her in his arms and tell her what he felt. Before he could do that, she turned to the side and uttered three words.

"Walk with me."

And so he did.

...

They spoke for hours, forgetting all about lunch and dinner, well into the late evening. She opened up and told him everything. How she had fallen in love with Alistair, how he had ended it. Her final battle against the archdemon and how she had cried herself to sleep afterwards. Anders listened through all of it, his heart heavy for her pain, his eyes taking in each gesture, each sigh and each little shake of her head. When she was done, she smiled brilliantly at him and thanked him for listening. It was then that he felt his heart would surely explode. He did not think that it would be possible to love her more than he did. He was sorely mistaken.

That day he saw the woman behind the title. And his love for her deepened.

They strolled to the kitchens. Anders's heart was thumping in his chest and there was a spring to his step that he didn't know he had.

She flirted with the cook and the woman grumpily served them two dinner plates. She took them gratefully and they sat at the kitchen table and ate. Anders asked for a bottle of wine and they drank and laughed for a while after they had finished the meal.

"You know, we could go to the city tomorrow. I hear they have a party planned," Anders said, on his fourth glass of wine.

"A party? Why would they have planned a party?" She said, her voice slightly slurred. It was plain to him that she had a hard time holding her alcohol.

"Oh, nothing much. Just the fact that they cleaned up the city, mourned their dead, and are happy to be alive. That sort of thing. You know how it is," he replied.

She burst out laughing. In fact, she laughed so hard, tears started streaming down her cheeks. Anders joined her, partly because she was adorable when she laughed.

Abruptly, she stopped laughing, and scooted closer to him, until her face was barely a few inches away. She fluttered her long lashes, and Anders drew his breath in sharply. He dared not succumb to his desires now. Not when she was drunk. He wanted her to be sober and conscious of what was happening, if only to make sure she felt the same way about him.

"I'd looooooove to go!" She said happily, drawing out the word 'love' musically. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it, already!"

"Really?" Anders asked, his heart flipping over.

She nodded vigorously, then stood up, rather fast. Anders stood up as well, and his arms went out to steady her for she was swaying precariously on her feet.

They were alone in the kitchen, the cook having left to rest a while back. Anders felt his resolve weakening.

Then, she looked up at him, her eyes shining like twin stars and he was lost.

"The room is dancing!" She giggled.

He chuckled softly, as his hand went to her face. He traced patterns on her cheek and his fingers trailed upwards to her tattoo, where they lightly danced around the pattern. Her mouth parted and his eyes fell on her lips. One minute he was caressing her chin and the next, his hand had found the nape of her neck and pulled her gently towards him. His lips descended on hers and he kissed her.

He felt her gasping into his mouth. The hand he had on her back tightened when she threw her hands around his neck and responded to his kiss.

Anders felt his head swim. His erection throbbed painfully, straining to be free from his smalls. He moaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue snaking its way into her mouth. She responded with equal passion, and soon their tongues were twisting against each other in a passionate dance of their own.

The door to the kitchen flung open, and they broke the kiss, staring with confused eyes at the figure standing in the threshold.

"Oh! I'm - I'm sorry to intrude, Warden-Commander!" Nathaniel stammered out, blushing all the way to his roots.

Lyna said nothing for a few seconds. Then, she blushed, her color far deeper than Nathaniel's. She disentangled herself from Anders's arms and ran out of the room.

"What the heck are you doing here?" Anders demanded, visibly angry at the intrusion.

"Coming for a late snack before I went to bed. I had no idea -" Nathaniel said, his blush deepening.

"Didn't you have dinner today?" Anders practically growled at him.

"I said I was sorry. How was I to know that you two were - er- occupied -er- engaged in -"

"No privacy! No privacy at all!" Anders muttered as he strode past a stammering Nathaniel, making his way to his room in the barracks.

The moment had been lost. For all he knew, she probably would never want to set eyes on him again. Anders slumped against the door of his room, his heart heavy. A meowing Ser Pounce-a-lot snaked around his legs.

"How I'd love to be a cat right now," he sighed, picking the cat up and then petting it and scratching the delicate spot under its chin. The cat stared at him through half-closed eyes, purring up a storm. He sat on his bed, still petting the cat, feeling miserable. Ser Pounce-a-lot rammed its head on his chin, and he had to smile down at the cat. He shook his head.

"Well, Pounce. I guess it's just you and me now, huh?"

...


	3. The Lover

Chapter 3 - The Lover

When Anders woke up the following day, he discovered he had missed breakfast. He groaned then stretched. The memory of the previous night's events soon invaded his thoughts. He shook his head slightly and sat up.

Ser Pounce-a-lot jumped up to his lap, and started to bump its head into his arm, nudging it as it meowed plaintively. Cleary, the cat wanted affection, so Anders focused his attention on it. He cooed, scratched and petted. Soon, the cat made a move to curl itself on his lap, but Anders shook his head and put it on the floor.

The cat walked off, twitching its tail indignantly.

Anders stifled a laugh and got out of bed. He washed himself and put on his robes, then went straight to the kitchen. He found some scraps of fish for his cat and went back to his room to feed it. His own stomach growled and he said a hasty goodbye, heading towards the dining room for lunch.

The rest of the wardens were there already and eating. Nathaniel had his head down was whispering in a conspiratorial way to Sigrun and Oghren, who was belching loudly from time to time. Anders's eyes narrowed slightly, for he knew very well what Nathaniel was telling the others. Velanna glanced up at him angrily. He had thought she hated him already. Apparently, her hatred for him had grown overnight.

"Good morning!" He called out, forcing his voice to sound cheerful.

The rest fixed their eyes interestedly on him and smiled back at him. He smiled to himself and took the plate that one of the servants had brought in, then got busy eating everything he could put his hands on.

His eyes kept straying to the Warden-Commander's empty chair, his heart getting heavier by the minute. Finally, unable to continue eating, and feeling confused and disheartened, he pushed his plate away and started to rise up from his chair.

One of the servants approached him as he turned to leave.

"Ser Warden Mage, a note for you," he said, then bowed and left the room.

"A note? Don't open it! It's a conspiracy against us!" Oghren roared from his end of the table.

"Shut up, Oghren," Anders said, giving him a pointed look. "I've told you a hundred times already, the schleets are now at the circle tower, scaring off the templars."

"Ha! Don't think you're fooling me for a minute, mage! Damned Sparkle-fingers, getting lucky with all the women. I know what you are up to, you nug-humping idiot!"

Anders sighed and concentrated on the envelope he held in his hands. He recognized the handwriting immediately, and his heart began to hammer in his chest.

"Anything interesting?" Nathaniel asked innocently, his eyes twinkling up a storm.

But Anders either ignored him or failed to hear him, as he turned around and rushed out of the room.

He arrived at the library, breathless and sweating slightly. Sitting on the nearest chair, he tore the envelope open, his eyes falling on the words written over the parchment. His hands were shaking a bit as he began reading.

_**Anders,**_

_**By the time you read this, I'll be on my way to Amaranthine, or probably there already. I hope you haven't forgotten what you said last night. I certainly haven't. **_

_**I'm sorry I left that way, but my emotions got the better of me. It felt a bit unsettling to be called 'Warden-Commander' when I was engaged in feeling total happiness at the time. The title dragged me to duty and serious things, something that I had completely forgotten about. Needless to say, I felt I needed to think about things, so I fled to my room. **_

_**We have to talk as soon as possible. I'll be at the inn. **_

_**Lyna**_

There it was. The letter had left him feeling more confused than ever before. On one hand she clearly said she felt happy. On the other, she said they had 'to talk', which filled him with fear. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest. He forced himself to calm down, then headed off to his room to pack an overnight bag.

...

He arrived in the city early in the evening, leaving his horse at the stables outside. He made his way to the inn, asking for a bath to be drawn in the room he rented. He ate a light dinner and made his way to his room, bathed and dressed in loose trousers and a tunic.

Pausing to comb his wet hair back in a queue, he made his way down to the counter to speak to the innkeeper.

She had rented a room four doors away from his. He climbed up the stairs again and walked down the corridor, stopping at the door of her room. He adjusted his robes and took a deep breath, then knocked on the door.

"Come in," her voice said from the other side.

Anders opened the door, letting himself into the room. His eyes were drawn to the petite figure standing next to the fireplace, and widened slightly.

She was wearing a long dress that accentuated her tiny waist and curves and a tight bodice that hugged her breasts tightly. His eyes fixed themselves on her breasts, which were large for an elven woman. They seemed to be straining against the bodice, which barely covered them at all, leaving a lot of the milky white flesh exposed. Anders struggled to control the desire that was quickly turning his brain to mush.

"Hello, Anders," she said softly. "Could you close the door, please?"

He tore his eyes away from her, long enough to close the door behind him. When he turned back, he noticed her hair was loose, and hung softly around her shoulders, golden-orange in the light of the fire.

He advanced slowly into the room, stopping within inches of her. He didn't speak, but continued to let his hungry eyes roam over her.

"I wanted to tell you that I think -"

Anders interrupted her sentence, his voice weak. "It's alright. I'll understand if you say that you can't...um...don't...no, that's so not what I mean to say."

She smiled. "I think you should let me speak, before you end up saying something awkward."

"Um...yes. Of course. I'll just head off to my room. I understand completely. I'm sorry to have been so forceful and assure you it won't happen again," he recited automatically.

"What? What are you saying, silly?" She laughed, taking one of her hands in his. Anders nearly jumped at the contact.

"I...um...don't know what you mean?" He said slowly, his eyes on her hand that looked so small in his own.

"I liked the kiss. I wanted it to happen as a matter of fact," she whispered, inching closer to him.

Anders felt a roaring noise in his ears, his heart was now riding wildly around his chest, threatening to burst out. His erection was begging for release. He couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm in love with you," he blurted out suddenly.

"What?" She asked, her eyes shining like stars.

"I - I love you. I've loved you since I saw you, Lyna. When I heard what had happened between you and the king, I thought I would never have a chance with you. I'm a mage, an apostate, and well...I haven't exactly had serious relationships in the past." He was talking hurriedly now, unable to stop himself. The words tumbled out, taking in a life of their own. "I've never fallen in love before. Not like this and I'd -" Her hand darted up to his face, and she put two fingers on his lips, then lightly let her fingertips dance over them, eliciting a soft moan from him.

Standing on her toes, she placed a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips, then looked up to the bewildered look on his face and giggled.

Anders could bear it no longer. He gave a strangled cry and gathered her into his arms, kissing her passionately. Their tongues entwined and they hummed and gasped into each other's mouths. His hands were roaming all over her back. She ground her hips at him and he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

The night was magical and one of the most passionate nights of his life. His hands began their journey into adoration - the adoration of Lyna. He caressed her breasts first, rubbing her nipples through the fabric of her dress, until she mewled and squirmed, her hands caressing his arms and shoulders. He pulled at the bodice, and she helped him with the laces, until they managed to get it off completely. She sat up in bed, and helped with the buttons and laces in the back. Her breasts, free from their confinement, were finally his. His mouth licked, nipped gently and suckled each nipple, while his hands pushed down her smalls.

She pushed him away gently, breathing heavily. "You are fully dressed. That is so not fair," she pouted. He smiled, dipping his head down to the curve of her neck, kissing, sucking and biting gently, till he reached her earlobe.

"I'll fix that, don't you worry," he whispered softly, then stood up beside the bed and undressed hurriedly.

Her eyes fell on his arousal instantly. He smiled crookedly and climbed on the bed again, taking her in his arms.

Pushing her down on the bed gently, he continued to kiss her, trailing down the curves of her body. His hands touched her softly, his fingertips memorizing every inch of her.

When his mouth reached her yellow curls below her navel, he used his fingers to part the folds gently and found her nub. His tongue snaked out and he licked, then started to suck and lick at intervals, while she squirmed and bucked her hips up at him.

One of his hands reached out to touch her breast, then slowly descended to her thighs, finally reaching her inner core a few moments later. He slid in a finger, then two, and curved them slightly, hitting her sweet spot. She went wild with pleasure, her head moving from side to side, one of her hands clenching a pillow beside her.

He thrust his fingers in and out of her, adopting a steady rhythm, while his tongue continued to lick, and his mouth suckled. She was mewling with pleasure, gasping out his name over and over again.

"Anders. Oh, that feels so good. Don't stop! Oh, Anders!" She cried, her hands suddenly grasping his head, her fingers digging themselves into his scalp. He let out a guttural growl and reached into the Veil, calling forth a spell to heighten her pleasure. The sparks that burst forth from his fingertips made her reach her climax and she shuddered, and he hurried to lap up her juices.

She sat up, then bent down to capture his hard arousal in her lips. Anders's penis was thick and long, he was suddenly afraid she would choke on it. But she took him in almost completely and he shivered slightly as felt himself on the brink of release. His hands went around her head, stopping her movements. She nodded, her eyes half-closed as she opened her legs wide to him, understanding fully what was coming next.

He positioned himself at the entrance of her core, and pushed until he buried himself into her wet heat to the hilt. He nearly came then, and had to stop all movement to catch his breath and start anew.

They moved slowly at first, then picked up speed. Anders brought his fingers down to her nub, and shot intervals of sparks at them as he massaged. Soon she was practically screaming his name as she tensed for a second climax.

He felt his release getting close, and kissed her, then looked into her eyes. "I'm almost there, my love," he breathed, and she dug her nails into his arms and nodded, biting her lower lip, feeling herself draw near as well.

"I love you," she whispered, and the words spurred him on. He thrust into her deeply; each spurt of his seed inside her accompanied by a deep thrust as he whispered her name over and over again. Her walls clenched around him as she joined him, reaching her climax almost at the same time.

They collapsed on the bed, their arms tightly around each other. Anders withdrew and gasped for air, caressing her hair as she nestled against him.

They lay there in silence, catching their breaths until they felt sleep overtake them and dozed off in each other's arms.

...

Anders woke up first, in the darkness that precedes dawn, and he propped himself on one elbow as he smiled down at her sleeping form. He could see her plainly in the soft firelight that illuminated the room. His eyes caught the tattoo on her forehead and he smiled.

Bending down he kissed it softly.

His heart now belonged to her. His life suddenly had new meaning. She opened her eyes to look at him and took him in her arms, smiling her sweet smile.

A smile that held love, promise and dreams of a future together.

_Have I ever told you I find tattoos on women incredibly attractive? _

THE END


End file.
